Pirate Dave and his Randy Adventures (Career Ending Romance Spoof) (5 page)

At that exact moment, his breeches buzzed. Dave narrowed his eyes at the Heavens and yanked his phone from his pocket. He was furious his men hadn’t been able to come up with a Scrabble word for him, but he realized that removing appendages from the entire crew could be a bit counterproductive.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Dave screamed as he stared at his phone. “PENIS? You played PENIS?”

As his rant at the obese god escalated, the horizon filled with a blazing purple light and a shape-shifting, fairy-like blind troll dropped out of the sky and landed smack on top of Pirate Dave, giving him a minor concussion.

“What the fuck?” Pirate Dave yelled, throwing the sightless troll twenty-seven feet away from him. “Who are you?”

The shape-shifting, fairy-like troll got up and brushed himself off. He was pissed. “Well, you idiot, I’m supposed to be your blind magical fairy troll, but after a reception like that, I think I will become your archenemy,” he huffed, in a teeny-tiny squeaky voice.

“I’m over here,” Pirate Dave offered, as the blind troll had been speaking to air

“Oh, sorry.”

“No biggie.”

The blind troll fairy turned forty-five degrees to his left and continued. “Poseidon said you were a dick, but . . . ”

“Dude,” Pirate Dave cut him off, “you need to turn about twenty-two degrees to your right.”

The blind shape-shifting fairy-like troll’s face burned crimson with embarrassment. “Is that better?” he asked as he made the adjustment.

“Yep.”

“Thanks. Now as I was saying, Poseidon said you were a dick, but he didn’t say anything about how stinky you are.”

“That’s my manly smell,” Pirate Dave haughtily informed the troll. “Plus, I’d guess your sense of smell is pretty sharp considering you can’t see a goddamn thing.”

“True. So what is your problem?”

“My salami won’t go down. No matter how many beautiful large-breasted women I bed, no matter how many sheep I befriend, no matter how many times I yank my pud, no matter . . . ”

“I get it,” the blind fairy troll interrupted. “I can help you with that.”

“You can?” Pirate Dave was ecstatic. “If you can help me, I will restore your sight. I am a Time-Traveling Vampire Warlock, after all,” he boasted.

“That sounds fair.” The little troll nodded his bulbous head. “Go ahead and give me back my vision and then I will take care of your wanker. It would be far wiser if I could see before I deal with your skin flute.”

Pirate Dave readily agreed. He readjusted his rock-hard electric eel and lifted his arms in the air. The blind troll almost passed out from the foul odor wafting from the pirate’s pits, but he plugged his nose and went with it. He’d been blind for twelve thousand years. He’d wade through a pile of poop to get his sight back.

Pirate Dave dirty danced and swore profusely. Warlock spells tended to be vigorous and profane. Sweat poured from Dave as he bounced up and down like he was having an epileptic fit. The troll learned seven new swearwords. He tucked that info away for future use. Pirate Dave finished and the blind troll was no longer blind.

“It’s your turn now,” Pirate Dave bellowed. “You will make the problem with my pork sword go away. Now!”

The troll peered over at Pirate Dave. He was ridiculously handsome in a big, macho, hairy, smelly way. The troll, not one to welsh on a bargain, giggled and turned to the left three times, hopped on his right foot, then his left. Lightning split the sky and a huge wind whipped viciously across the deck of the ship. Three deckhands were blown to sea, never to be heard from again. Pirate Dave didn’t care, he just wanted freedom from his ding-dong. He was tired of his life being dictated by the randy desires of his love muscle.

“It is done!” the little troll screamed, laughing maniacally.

Pirate Dave realized the obscene pressure between his manly hairy thighs was gone. A huge grin split his face. His life was his own again. He was free to pork only when desire dictated!

He looked down at his lack of erection and froze. Icy fear ripped through his body, causing temporary paralysis, and he screamed like a little girl. He no longer had a hard-on . . . because he no longer had a penis.

Chapter Eleven

Of course, Laverne’s plan to off Dave and Shirley at the Bingo Tournament was foiled by Calico Andy the Mind Reader. When he threatened to tattle unless she put out, she tied his peter in a knot. Literally. Andy had to have some major surgery to right his peepee. He decided Laverne was far more trouble than it was worth and he decided to stick to his left hand.

Ironically it wouldn’t have worked anyway. Dave didn’t attend the tournament. No one had seen Pirate Dave since the bizarre troll visit. Rumors were flying, but nobody had the real skinny. The ship was being repeatedly attacked by dumbasses who interpreted Dave’s dickless state to mean he had gone insane and was incapable of leading his crew.

Of course, his new obsession with ordering products off the internet in between throwing tantrums while playing Scrabble with Poseidon weren’t helping his reputation.

Pirate Dave hid in his cabin for a week. Occasionally it took that long for body parts to grow back. If he ever got his bare hands on that fucking troll, he’d rip his ’nads off. He knew it had gotten around that he was dick-less. Fourteen rival pirates had tried to steal his ship and treasure. One sneaky son of a bitch had absconded with Shirley, only to bring her back three days later because her voice had ruptured his eardrums.

He slathered some Burt’s Butt Cream under his eyes. He’s gotten a great deal on thirteen and a quarter cases on-line. He’d heard it was helpful for puffiness. He didn’t enjoy the odor, so he doused himself with Scrubby Clean laundry detergent, also a deal. That turned out to be a bad fucking idea. It burned like a motherfucker when he got it in his eye, but after flushing it out with Aquaman Water, he felt better. So much better, he decided to treat himself to Taco Yo Mama and a Stanley’s Junglejuice.

Rumor of Laverne’s heroics made him wish he had a schlong again. She had singlehandedly beaten the living hell out of his entire crew and all fourteen pirates who had tried to commandeer what was rightfully his. He suspected she’d handed Shirley over without much fight. Those bitches hated each other.

When his Johnson reappeared, he would definitely hump Laverne and then he would take her to Smiley Pete’s Weenie Shack or possibly Harry’s Hotdogs or Jimmy’s House of Fried Cheese or maybe even Cyndy’s Cylindrical Meat Sausage Shop. She deserved a nice night out on the town.

Pirate Dave doubled over in pain. The area where his love muscle used to reside was burning and itching like a bad case of VD. “What is happening?” he bellowed, knocking over his Mindbendo gaming system in a frantic search for more bottled water, perhaps Aquawoman.

The magic of vampire regeneration overtook him. His body dropped to the floor and he was unable to move. The only relief he had was the use of his thick hairy neck. This gift gave him the power to watch the miraculous miracle that was about to happen.

Right before his not so puffy eyes, his divine rod began to grow back. Boy, he’d love to see the look on that troll’s face now. No one fucks with Pirate Dave’s pork sword. He watched with pride as his main vein grew back even larger than before! He smiled and winked at his pickle, his long-lost friend . . . But wait, what the hell was going on? Something was very, very wrong. He vaguely remembered reading about this in vampire school, but that was three hundred fucking years ago. This could not be happening!

Pirate Dave screamed in anguish, “Nooooooooo.”

But no matter how much he cried like a girl, shit still happened. Pirate Dave was not blessed with one tallywhacker . . . oh no, he was blessed with two. Two raging, erect ding-dongs. What in the hell was he supposed to do with two rock hard skin flutes? He didn’t know any women with two vaginas . . . but wait, maybe he did.

Chapter Twelve

“Back hair is not a big turn on for me, but a painful waxing scene in my novel would be hot,” Mother Nature bubbled, her eyes shining bright with what some might mistake for insanity. “I shall create an entire city of rubber people. All entirely made from condoms. That shall be my nod to safe sex! Three of them will be vampires, three will be mole shifters, three warlocks, three zombies, three social workers, three giants and the rest will be midgets. I will lay out a world ripe for romance!”

“Do you smoke crack?” the voice asked in disgust.

“No. Why?” Mother Nature’s eyes narrowed.

“No reason,” the voice cooed. “I came across an armless gypsy gremlin and she found the ship on the ocean for twenty-two dollars and fifty-six cents. She is far smarter than you.”

“I beg to differ, you old over-botoxed hag. I have over eight hundred thousand dollars of your money in a Swiss bank account,” Mother Nature giggled. “Who you calling dumb?”

“Damn it,” the voice hissed. “You are a horrible person.”

“No worse than you and I’m much more attractive! Plus, I haven’t spent my immortality trying to kill two people I barely know.”

“Oh, trust me I know . . . whatever, Mother Napels,” the voice snapped. “You’ve been worthless to me.”

“Alright fine. And the name is Nature you imbecile. I do have a bit of news that might be helpful . . . ”

The voice eyed her from her darkened corner. Mother Nature looked away. There were days when looking at a train wreck just didn’t appeal.

“Pirate Dave has double the pleasure in his pants,” Mother Nature giggled.

“And that’s supposed to help me how?”

Mother Nature smirked and examined her manicure. “I just thought someone as cavernous as you’re rumored to be might find a man sporting two privates interesting.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” the voice glared with burning, reproachful and permanently open eyes.

“Oh please, it’s no secret that your feminine section is rather, um . . . largish. I just thought you might want to think twice about destroying the entire ship. You might find quite a few uses for Pirate Dave and his deformity,” Mother Nature said.

“Well, well, well, Mother Noodles, you may have earned your eight hundred thousand after all,” the voice cackled evilly. “Yesssssss, this is turning out to be a very fine day indeed.”

Chapter Thirteen

Pirate Dave stared at the hat full of assholes and wondered who had sent him such a lovely and unusual gift. He considered trying to fuck them, but since they weren’t attached to anything, he decided against it.

Apparently he had a secret admirer.

He’d received daily gifts for a week, but none as glorious as the hat full of assholes. He was impressed and moved. Shirley was fit to be tied. She’d tried to tempt him away from thoughts of his admirer by swinging naked from the chandelier in the galley. Bad fucking move on Shirley’s part. During her buck-ass naked extravaganza, she’d accidentally blinded six crew members standing nearby when she gouged their eyes out with her toe.

Her lack of remorse was a huge turn-on for Pirate Dave, but alas, she only had one vagina. Pirate Dave ripped open a box of Salty Skeeboodles and shoved them in his mouth. Thank God for the internet. Food in 1492 sucked. Through his Warlock magic he was able to order delicious delicacies from the future. He left the crumbs from his snack embedded in his chest fur. Lice needed to eat, too.

“Great Poseidon’s Asswaffles!” he choked out.

He panicked as he looked down at his expanding stomach and realized he couldn’t see his peckers anymore. His inability to find a fuck buddy with two lady holes had led him to eat. A lot. He cared not that his once nicely indented hairy ass had turned as flabby as Poseidon’s.

Feeling nauseous and horny, Pirate Dave formed a plan. He would stay awake until he caught his secret admirer. Anyone thoughtful enough to leave him a hat full of assholes deserved a garlic press. He gotten a case for eleven dollars and ninety-two cents. He hunkered down and waited.

A nasty storm brewed on the horizon. The wind whistled ominously and blinding streaks of lightning ripped through the sky, tearing the darkness apart like a go-cart at a monster truck rally. The ship tossed and turned, causing Dave’s triple bacon cheeseburger, onion rings, and fish sandwich to threaten a reappearance.

“Goddamnit,” Pirate Dave railed against the howling gale, “I hate getting wet.”

Pirate Dave’s head drooped and his shoulders sagged, for Dave had become too fat to fit through the cabin doors. He’d been relegated to living on the deck, becoming one with the motherfucking elements.

If only that shit-ass little troll hadn’t lopped his wanker off, none of this would have happened. He’d be happily porking Shirley. A ball-gag, duct tape and lock jaw had solved the voice problem. He really did love her as long as she didn’t speak, but . . . Laverne had given him a boner numerous times, too. Her violent murderous streak made his Johnsons stand at attention. What to do . . .

The storm picked up and Pirate Dave realized the rain might shrink his ass-less leather chaps. He loved his leather chaps. They’d become slightly uncomfortable due to his double cocks, but his vanity overruled his comfort. Of course his recent hundred-pound weight gain didn’t help, but that wasn’t his fault. It was the fault of the formerly blind, stupid, fucktard troll.